Unrequited Love
by PotionsMistressOfRavenclaw
Summary: Romeo saw Juliet that fateful night, but she didn't see him; she had eyes for Paris only.  Unrequited love only grows and festers into obsession.  And obsession is a very dangerous thing.  Romeo will do whatever it takes to get Juliet.  T for now.


_Hi there, everybody! I've decided to fuck with the plot of Romeo and Juliet for a while :) you people who are huge fans of canon will hate me, so please just hit the back button, cuz it's gonna get AU. Also, this starts the night of the masquerade ball._

Summary: _That night, at the masquerade ball, Juliet doesn't see Romeo. But Romeo certainly sees her, only to get way-laid by a drunken Mercutio. Juliet meets Paris and decides that she certainly can like of his love, but Romeo doesn't want to give up, even after he hears about her upcoming nuptials. Unrequited love only grows and festers, until it turns to obsession. Then, that person will do whatever it takes to get what they want. And Romeo wants Juliet._

Warnings: _This is not a happy fanfiction. Romeo is __**insane**__ and Juliet is certainly OOC. This is also an AU where Juliet falls in love with __**Paris**__, __**not Romeo**__. I will also attempt to write their conversations in Shakespearean terms, so bear with me. If you'd like to help, it'd be greatly appreciated._

Pairings: _Paris/Juliet, onesided Romeo/Juliet, past onesided Romeo/Rosaline, and that's about all. Some may appear later (and of course, there are the obvious ones: Lord Capulet/Lady Capulet and Lord Montague/Lady Montague)._

"What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?" Romeo called to a servant. The young man shook his head.

"I know not, sir." The servant replied. Romeo peered once more across the hall at the beautiful girl.

"O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear- beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand and, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er say true beauty till this night." The young Montague muttered to himself. Tybalt heard this and whipped around.

"This, by his voice, should be a Montague. Fetch me my rapier, boy," he told a servant. The servant scurried off to do as told, "What, dares the slave come hither, covered with an antic face, to fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honor of my kin, to strike him dead I hold it not a sin." He spotted the servant carrying his precious blade and grinned. Capulet, however, saw this and intervened before Tybalt could get too far.

"Why, how now, kinsman? Wherefore storm you so?" Capulet asked the angered Tybalt.

"Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe; a villain, that is hither come in spite to scorn at our solemnity this night." He replied and pointed to Romeo.

"Young Romeo is it?" Capulet asked, peering into the crowd and spotting the young Montague. Tybalt nodded.

"Tis he, that villain Romeo." Tybalt sneered.

"Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone. 'A bears him like a portly gentleman, and, to say truth, Verona brags of him to be a virtuous and well-governed youth. I would not for the wealth of all this town here in my house do him disparagement. Therefore be patient, take no note of him. It is my will; which thou if respect, show a fair presence and put off these frowns, an ill-beseeming semblance for a feast." Capulet declared. A frown continued to mar Tybalt's features.

"It fits when such a villain is a guest. I'll not endure him." Capulet glared daggers at his nephew.

"He shall be endured. What, goodman boy? I say he shall. Go to! Am I the master here, or you? Go to! You'll not endure him? God shall mend my soul! You'll make a mutiny among my guests! You will set a cock-a-hoop! You'll be the man!" Capulet raged.

"Why, uncle, 'tis a shame." He spluttered in response. Capulet's rage only grew.

"Go to, go to! You are a saucy boy. Is't so, indeed? This trick may scathe you. I know what. You must contrary me! Marry, 'tis time. - Well said, my hearts! - You are a princox- go! Be quiet, or- More light, more light! - For shame! I'll make you quiet; what! –Cheerly, my hearts!" Capulet finished ranting, Tybalt properly chastised.

"Patience perforce with willful choler meeting makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. I will withdraw; but this intrusion shall, now seeming sweet, convert to gall." With that, Tybalt left the ball after swearing his revenge on Romeo, unbeknownst to him.

Romeo hurried across the floor, searching for the beauty he had seen earlier. As soon as he spotted her, a larger body slammed into his, forcing the air from his lungs. When he got it back, he cursed to person who was now lying on the floor beside him. He glared at the face to find it of his friend Mercutio.

"Mercutio? Good Morrow, friend." Romeo ventured quietly. Said young man turned to face him, staring blearily at his friend. It was then that Romeo realized his friend was drunk.

"G-God-den, t-to you, friend Romeo!" Mercutio cried as he staggered to his feet, assisted by Romeo's arm. The Montague frowned.

"Mickle1 aqua vitae, good Mercutio?" he asked, attempting to escape Mercutio's death grip on his arm. He jerked free and made the drunken man stumble. Mercutio caught himself on Romeo's shoulder and once again stopped him.

"Oh Sir Romeo, w-where doth-th thou wander to? Mercutio slurred with a hiccup. Romeo sighed. Mercutio's face split into a grin.

"F-Fair Rosa…Rose…Rosaline! Yes, that's it, Rosaline, h-h-has caught y-your fick-kle eye?" Romeo shrugged the hand off his shoulder and turned to the direction the woman of his dreams had been, only to find that she had disappeared. He let out a long-suffering sigh.

"Nay friend, another, fairer than Rosaline…but she is gone…"

Meanwhile, Juliet had wandered to her father, awaiting the man she was supposed to marry. She fiddled with her dress nervously and looked at her shoes. What did he look like? Was he kind? How could she possibly love a man she'd just met?

A soft chuckle tore her from her reverie. She looked up shyly to find a handsome, raven-haired young man in front of her.

"Art thou Juliet?" the man asked in a slightly rough, but melodic voice. Her eyes widened as she struggled to find her voice.

"Indeed I am, good sir. May I inquire thy name?" the man smiled and took her hand in his and placed a gentle kiss to it.

"Fair Juliet, I am your betrothed, the County Paris." He replied. Her mother and her nurse were very right. He certainly was a man of wax, a very handsome man with jet black hair, dark green eyes, a fair build and a perfect smile.

"Good County, shall we sit and speak?" Juliet asked quietly and Paris gestured to the seats lining the wall.

"I shall take it that thou wish to know me. Am I correct, my lady?" Paris inquired.

"Yes, my lord. Shall we inquire about each other?"

"Indeed we shall. How many summers have ye lived, love?" her betrothed asked.

"Thirteen. In a fortnight and odd days, the day before Lammastide, I shall be fourteen." She smiled shyly at the man before her and inquired his age.

"I, my dear, am seventeen, and shall be of eighteen years on the eve of our lord Jesus's birth."

The two continued to talk late into the night while Lady and Lord Capulet stood and watched.

"Husband, I do believe they have fallen." Lady Capulet whispered to her husband, who smiled.

"Indeed wife, I believe they have. Now, it is late, we must break them apart, ere they shall be up all night!"

"Daughter Juliet, night has fallen and it is time for rest. An if thou dost not rest, thou shall regret it in the morn." Her mother declared. Juliet smiled.

"Of course, Madam," Juliet stood and turned to the County, "My lord, farewell, for I must retreat to my bed for the night." She told her future husband with a small smile. He too stood as he saw Lord Capulet.

"I shall see ye on the morrow, Juliet, till then, adieu, and keep this holy kiss."

"Ah, Young County, ye shall certainly see thy future lady to-morrow. Now, my son, 'tis time to shut up the home. God-den!" Capulet yelled.

"God gi' go-den, father!" Paris called as he left.

"Tell me, daughter, can you like of Paris' love?" her mother asked her for the second time today. This time, the answer was not playful. It was serious this time.

"My lady, I believe I can."

1_Mickle means much_

_So, this will be updated next Monday (it's the only day I have internet access, so that's when all of them are updated. Just thought I'd let you all know in advance so no one asks "When is this going to be updated?"_

_You already know the answer. Thanks for reading!_

-Dei


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